A Thorn In The Hand IC

[Malak'ai]

((UM, How close are they?))

**About 90' from you now**.

[Arranis Thelmos]

Unaware that his magic missile had no effect on the orcs, Halabur scrambles to get a healing potion for himself and The ailing Sparklord.

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2 potions of Cure Light Wounds used.
Halabur (1d8+1)[2]
Sparklelord (1d8+1)[5]

[Marlowe]

Verossa sets down the bow. "Sorry Sir Dame, it's not my day" And throws a javelin instead, aiming for the Shamanistic looking chappy if she can see him.

Attack(1d20+3)[14]damage(1d6+3)[5]CCR[1d20+3[/roll]

Whatever happens with the shot, she pick up her Glaive and advance to the front.

[Malak'ai]

Sparklelord makes a pitiful whinnying noise as he slowly comes back to conciousness.

**Can I get another Spot Check from Marlowe please**

[Wordplay]

'I don't think you could hit them no matter how hard you try Verossa - I think we flee phantasms.

Halabur! I think at least some of these are illusions, can you dispell them?'

Raif directs the wand at Verossa.

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Cure Light Wounds (1d8+3)[10]

[Marlowe]

Spot (1d20-1)[17]

[Malak'ai]

Verossa:

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Your eyes trail after the javelin as it flies though the air, then right through one of the Orc warriors causing it to waver and blink in and out of sight for the length of an eyebeat before it continues charging towards you as if nothing had happened.

**Now that you have interacted with them and Raif has said they may be illusions, could I please get some Will Saves.**

[Marlowe]

((Even looking at them intensely, such as when aiming, can count as "interaction", Illusions are a can of worms, a strict DM can shut them down completely. And a Warlock's at-will Detect Magic is a real problem.

For the Ancient Facility in "Southern Comfort" I had to have every wall slathered with conflicting illusions, just to make sure the Warlock in the party wouldn't spoil everything. At that, her Spiderwalk meant she waltzed through most of the challenges and even piggybacked her girlfriend through one.))

Oh, right. Will Save:(1d20+4)[14]

[Machuchang]

"Illusions...?" The dame blinked a few times, trying to focus her mind on the orcs in front of her.

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(1d20+3)[14]

[Simba]

Will Save: (1d20)[16]

[Arranis Thelmos]

Will Save: (1d20+4)[9]
Spellcraft (for dispelling if I have the coordinating spell) (1d20+12)[28]

[D_Man_7733]

"Damnit, illusions" Drayner mutters under his breath and tries to disbelieve them, accompanied with activating his detect magic to discern true from false enemies.

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Will: (1d20+4)[9]

[Wordplay]

Raif squints at the distant shapes, willing them to burst like bubbles.

Will Save (1d20+7)[19]

Meanwhile Raif points the wand at Drayner.

Cure Light Wounds (1d8+3)[9]

[Malak'ai]

Halabur:

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No matter how much you want to believe they are just figments of the imagination they just seem too real. From the sight of them, the noise they are making and even the smell of them leads you to belive these are real Orc's coming towards you.

If these Orc's were an illusion, then it must be a Greater one that includes sound and smell. It is also more powerful than you are capible of creating youself.

Drayner:

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No matter how much you want to believe they are just figments of the imagination they just seem too real. From the sight of them, the noise they are making and even the smell of them leads you to belive these are real Orc's coming towards you.

Once your sight changes though you see nothing infront of you except the open plain and the scrawny figure running away to the West, angling slightly Northward to keep distance between him and your party.

Verossa, Mailali, Raif and Eleanora:

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After blinking a few times and a few shakes of the head the sight, sounds and smell of the charging Orc's disappear leaving only the open plain and the image of the scrawny Orc running away to the West, angling slightly Northward to keep distance between him and your party.

[Wordplay]

As Raif's vision clears he smiles, satisfied.

'Can you see him? The mage? I think we heal the horses, then run him down. Fan out, Verossa and myself hit him from one side, Elenora and Halabur from the other. Drayner, Rochenion and his elves hang back, hit him from a distance.

That's a valuable enemy asset. One I don't intend to leave in the field - especially now he's used at least two of his spells'.

Raif points the wand at himself.

Cure Light Wounds (1d8+3)[7]

[Machuchang]

Eleanora smiled grimly.

"Aye. We'll show that coward what for!"

[Wordplay]

Raif takes a quick look at the elves.

'I don't know if you can see, but the foes are illusions, except for that one, there'. Raif points.

'That's the mage that hit us with the fire, I think'.

Raif notices something.

'Wait sir, Mailali wasn't it? Those burns look terrible. Please, come over here, and let me heal them'.

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If Mailali comes over Cure Light Wounds (1d8+3)[10]
Then Cure Light Wounds Shadow (1d8+3)[8]

[Malak'ai]

The two Elven archers gaze intently in the direction of where the Orc's had been and smile. Rochenion on the other hand keeps his guard up, then suddenly jumps forwards. Slashing in all directions for a couple of moments then stops and looks round. A look of surprise on his face slowly changing to anger, then to embarrassment, "They seemed so real..." he mutters before stalking back and slamming his swords into their sheaths.

[Arranis Thelmos]

Halabur growls and forces himself to try harder to disbelieve, then fires at the retreating shaman.

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Will: (1d20+4)[11]
Magic missile (if still in range) (1d4+1)[2]

[D_Man_7733]

Drayner looks around at the now missing army, a frown forming on his face as he looks for an enemy. "THERE YOU ARE!" Drayner raises his hand and the spear of energy appears has he thrusts it at the running figure.

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250ft
to hit vs touch: (1d20+5)[21]
damage: (2d8)[3]

"I'm on it Raif, run him down, and we'll keep him occupied

[Malak'ai]

Halabur:

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No matte how much you try, you still believe that these enemies are real. You watch in horror as they surround you, their swords raised high and ready to strike.

Drayner's spear of dark energy speeds out and vanishes as it reaches the end of it's range, still well away from the running mage.

[Arranis Thelmos]

"Sweet Sharess they're coming for me!" he cries and cowers, "I'm not here! I'm not here!"

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Will: (1d20+4)[10]

I'd imagine this would be my last one before they start attacking me.

[Marlowe]

"Mount up, Captain Underpants. The only thing they're coming for is a midnight matinee." Verossa puts her actions to her words. "Let's go Mage-hunting."

[Malak'ai]

Halabur:

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As your cringing on the ground the Orc's swords and axes descend.
Just before cutting into your flesh they shimmer, start going pale and transparent before disappearing completely.
You're left feeling a little silly, curled up in the dirt in a little ball with your pants now feeling quite noticeably damp, and there's the hint of a very pungent odor emanating from them as well.

[Wordplay]

Raif coughs.

'Well, that could have happened to anyone, Rochenion, Halabur. Willpower helps to see through illusion, but chance plays a part too...'

'Let's return the favour. I think the horses are up to it, but just in case...'

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Unless something prevents him, Raif will use the wand
on Sparklelord (1d8+3)[10]
then on Fighter (1d8+3)[8]
then Raif mounts Filofax, and picks up one out of any of the elves

[Marlowe]

Verossa nods and smiles as she feels strength come back into Fighter. "Thanks Liar, He's heading for the Covenanter lines around the Blossumwood! Let's make sure he doesn't make it! Hans? Coming?" she gestures an invitation to Nice-Hair Elf, then spurs off after the quarry should he oblige.

[Arranis Thelmos]

Halabur stood up shivering, trying to compose himself while trying to hide the fact his trousers were quite soiled. He mounts Sparklord and cries out, "That was nice for an amateur! Once I catch up to you I'll show you real magic!" as he charges towards the Shaman.

[Malak'ai]

**What's everyone else doing?**

[Machuchang]

Eleanora sprinted toward the caster, trying to cut off his means of escape.

[D_Man_7733]

Drayner audibly growled, before running to shadow and helping the horse up, attempting to catch the shaman within range of his spears (but staying behind the main group).